Baby steps

     "Drink it, drink it, drink it!" The football team cheered as I tilted my head backwards and swallowed the throat burning alcohol. Then I smashed the cup on the counter, looking at the boys with a dizzied smirk.

     "For the team and for our future matches, let's win them all and become better with each passing year!"

     Glasses clinked against each other, mouths slurping loudly the colorful liquids with such relish they seemed almost famished. And once again I took possession over an overflowing cup, emptying it faster than it had been filled. I was getting drowsy, but the ecstasy of our victory-along with the bitterness of knowing it was Rider and not me who brought us here- made my hand move from the table to my mouth almost like a conveyor belt. 

     "Carter!" I heard someone call after me and soon, two slim arms sneaked around my waist and a thin frame pressed against my back.

     I turned around and looked down at my boyfriend. He was 5'5, having blond, curly hair and dark blue eyes which made his pupils look like two black holes swallowed by waves of water whilst the light mirroring into his irises was exactly like the foam of the sea. His body was frail and his face always wore this sickish look on it. I was worried about his health, but he reassured me it was just tiredness pulling at his features.

     "Hey, beautiful!" I whispered as I slid Simon’s fringes aside, placing a kiss on his forehead and then another onto his plump, cherry lips.

     Simon responded with a boyish grin, his pupils looking alarmingly bigger when he looked up at me. Before I was able to inquire about it though, he snatched my cup and gulped the last drops of alcohol in it, making my eyeballs almost pop out of my head. Simon hated alcohol and as if on cue, his entire face wrinkled in displeasure as I assume his taste buds registered the bitter flavor of the spirit. 

     "I don’t understand how you can drink this-“He hiccupped. slamming the cup on the table “-but assuming you’ll be my ride tonight, I believe you shouldn’t be drinking at all.”

     "Ohh, bet Imma be your ride. In more than one way.” I wiggled my brows playfully, receiving a punch on my shoulder as response. 

     “St-uh-op!” Simon muttered between yawns, making my hand slide on the side of his face and cares his temple softly.

     “Mhm.”

     “Come on, I will give you a lift then come back to the party.”

     “But you drank.”

     I rolled my eyes, securing Simon’s chin between my index and thumb before placing a mere peck on his lips.

     “I don’t feel drunk yet. Plus, I will drive slowly and carefully. No police, no accident, ok?”

     The tiny boy between my arms nodded reluctantly, sliding his palm into my own and tugging me towards the exit.

     Once outside, the cold air of the night hit my face… at the same time a husky but all so familiar voice rang against my eardrums. 

     "I am ninety-nine percent sure I'm not a milestone, nor a travel guide  so why are you asking me where the nearest market is, I have no idea."

     I turned my head towards the direction of the noises, seeing two boys at the other end of the parking lot. One of them I recognized as being Ryder Morris, our star defensive tackle, whilst the other seemed familiar, but not enough to recall his name. Ryder was leaning against his car, a burning cigarette flaming between his lips while the other boy seemed to fidget a few seconds on the spot before deciding Ryder was dangerous field and left.

     Antisocial and rude, Ryder was... quotation marks... a distasteful arsehole. He was a walking poker face, and no one has ever seen a mismatched blink of his eyes. He never laughed, he never joked and he always treated others with malice. He had no friends and even now, at the party of our victory, he was all by himself.

     I held Simon’s hand tighter as we passed my lifelong rival, making sure to show him my displeased face but not before brushing my shoulder against Ryder’s and making him take a step backwards towards the hood of his car. 

     "Fuck you, Carter." He said spitefully, crossing his arms around his chest as he blew smoke in my face.

     I waved the foul smelling clouds aside, exhibiting a mocking smirk on my lips.

     "Really, Ryder? I knew you were lonely, but to the extent of hitting on a taken man?"

     "You are the one having my side bitch attached to your hand, Carter.”

     I clenched my jaw, feeling the anger radiating from me. Whatever problems were between me and Ryder remained between me and Ryder. No one had the right to talk about Simon like that.

     "You little fuck!"

     I rose my fist to hit Ryder but Simon stopped me quickly, grabbing my wrist and pulling me backwards by my forearm.

     "Don’t, Carter! He is just trying to piss you off. Let’s just go."

     I wanted to complain, but Simon’s big eyes melted my resolve and instead of launching a fist towards Ryder, I landed a kiss on my boyfriend’s lips. Then I stood up straight and looked at Ryder with frowned brows. Surprisingly, he was already staring at mine and Simon's intertwined fingers with a pained expression painted on his face. Don't tell me this weirdo was having a crush on my boyfriend. It was enough he was trying to take my place as a quarterback, if he more than placed a nail on my boy, then the team was going to get two extra balls and one less tackle.

     "Babe? Babe!"

     I looked down at Simon, realizing  he was glancing at me worriedly.

     "Let's go!" I said in a mere whisper, pulling my boyfriend away from the huge football player.

     Five minutes later and I was driving on the pitch black streets, heavy rain falling and breaking on the windows of my car like water-made insects. The radio was echoing almost silently and Simon was staring at the passing view with curious but hooded eyes. I knew something was wrong with him. I had a pretty good idea what that “something” was as well… but for tonight I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to act oblivious. However, tomorrow I was going to talk to him. I was going to find out what happened… what was bothering him.

     Tomorrow for sure.

     I drove in silence, being careful both at the road and my speed. Then everything happened fast…so fast that when I registered what I have done it was too late.

     Simon has received a message. Said message has made him distressed… terrified even. He started gasping for air, looking frantically from the phone to me and then at the road. I’ve tried talking to him, asking what was wrong but it felt like he was underwater and couldn’t hear me. My voice felt muffled and vocal cords broken. Then my words remained unspoken inside my throat when those big blue eyes looked up at me teary.

     “I am sorry!” was the last thing Simon whispered before he placed his hand on mine and then his arm swung brusquely to the left, making the car turn towards edge of the road. The slippery road and the sudden movement made us spin, the screech of the wheels piercing the silence of the night like mourning cries. Landscapes merged into a tornado of lines, hearts drumming against ribcages with uncertainty.  And my body felt numb, forgetting how to function.

     But my happiness was short legged when instead of the dark pavement, my car was mirroring its own headlights… but on a huge speeding truck.

     For the last time I looked at Simon. Guilt, regret, fear, relief … I didn’t know what was embroidered on his features. I couldn’t read expressions. But what I could do at that moment was to remember. I remembered how I thought Simon was underwater. The truth was that he indeed was underwater…

     …but I was the one drowning.

✾ 

     I woke up with sweat rolling down my forehead, my clothes soaked wet and hands shaking. I rubbed my face clean and then leaned against the headboard, staring at my legs in distaste.

     Since that day, I was handicapped. I had to leave the football team... to leave my life, my dreams and friends behind. I wasn't able to go to college, nor to leave the house by myself. I was wrecked...

     "Did you have another nightmare?" My papa's voice startled me and when I looked up I saw him leaning against the door frame.

     I shook my head, pulling my wheelchair closer to the bed. My papa held the wheelchair still while I placed my hands on the handles and lifted my heavy body onto the black glossy fabric. I was slowly getting used to small tasks like climbing on the wheelchair or using the toilet.  

     "Nope, just a very exhausting wet dream."

     I began moving to the bathroom, hugging my chuckling papa's tiny waist on the way. He hugged me back, kissing the top of my forehead and caressing my back.

     "The new caregiver is in the kitchen with your dad. He is almost the same age as you, so please try to get along with him. And don't be an ass for once, please!"

     I broke the embrace, looking at my father with a crooked frown. "Caregiver? I've already told you so many times that I don't need a caregiver... I can take care of myself just fine."

     My papa's beautiful face wrinkled in disagreement, his gentle features hardened. "If you were able to take care of yourself, you wouldn't have climbed in the car drunk. You are the reason why you're like this, Carter."

     I gritted my teeth, moving away from papa and going to the bathroom, trying to block his words and the disappointment in them the best way I could.

     I hadn't told my parents the truth about the accident. If I did, then they would have asked for justice into the court and Simon would have been charged a lot worst than I was. His and the truck driver’s injuries haven’t been as critical as mine. I just lost my driving license-which would have been useless anyways- ,had to pay for the driver’s hospitalization and has been laid criminal negligence charges. I hated Simon for what he did, but I couldn’t let him go to jail. He was still the frail boy I fell in love with and swore to protect. I would never forgive him for what he did, but the extent of my punishment towards him was to remove him completely from my life and nothing more. 

       When I finished my morning routine, I left my room and made my way towards the kitchen. There were noises protruding through the thin walls, a well known voice talking to the two others of my parents.

      Slowly opening the door, I was welcomed with the smell of coffee and breakfast. My papa was making pancakes while my dad was sitting at the table, talking with a huge, bear sized man. When I approached the table, the man turned around with his stoic features frowning up at me all so familiarly.

       "Ryder Morris!"